


STYX HELIX

by berrychowder



Series: "Based On..." Fics [2]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Akechi Goro Lives, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Amnesia, Canon-Typical Violence, Descent into Madness, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Memory Loss, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Paranoia, Persona 5: The Royal Spoilers, Rating May Change, Self-Sacrifice, Slow Burn, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:53:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25855417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/berrychowder/pseuds/berrychowder
Summary: "I'll never- Not ever- feel what it's like to lose you. Even if I have to forget who I am and... RE:START."Goro Akechi was dealt a truly terrible hand in a game he was destined to lose. If only Akira could swap their hands... but in order to do that he'd have to remember what he was dealt in the first place.In which Akira is given a choice: Akechi will be saved, but at a substantial cost. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.He'd throw the world away for that boy, why would something as trivial as his own life sway him?
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Amamiya Ren, Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Series: "Based On..." Fics [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1773163
Comments: 1
Kudos: 44





	1. Primrose

**Author's Note:**

> hoo boy this is going to be the longest fic i have ever written. i do have a rough estimate of how many chapters this will be so don't let that question mark freak you out. it'll be changed later.   
> \--  
> there will be new tags added with every update so please keep an eye on it. this fic will deal with some heavy topics. i will try to remind myself to put warnings at the beginning of the chapters if there is anything particulary heavy such as suicide or self harm.  
> \--  
> title of the fic is from the song STYX HELIX by MYTH & ROID (and there's an amazing English cover by Amalee)  
> \--  
> i'm not too sure about an update schedule yet, but i'll shoot for bi-weekly or even weekly if i really push myself. as always, you can contact me @asthmanian on tumblr even though im not that active on there anymore sksks

Akira had just slipped into bed, ready to fall asleep after a long day of settling back into his attic room, when his phone began to vibrate with message after message. 

Morgana sighs. “Tomorrow is your first day back to school, right? It could be important, might as well check it.” 

Sojiro suggested that he join a club this year since all of his charges have been dropped, but even though he was proven to be innocent in his assault case he highly doubts anything has changed regarding his reputation, especially with all the days he missed during his second year. 

**Ann:** _ How about a party tomorrow? _

Ann left for New York soon after Akira left Tokyo. She considered finishing up school there, but after a week of loneliness she ultimately decided that she would rather be back at home where everything is familiar. She’s content where she is and still plans on working hard. 

**Yusuke:** _ It has been quite some time since I have last laid eyes on the beauty that is the Sayuri… I shall gladly attend.  _

True to his word, Kawanabe has been supporting Yusuke’s art financially. He’s had a few more works in some galleries since everything happened, even had a few visiting foreigners willing to pay a large amount to take a piece home, but he’s declined every single offer thus far. 

**Futaba:** _ Sounds great! I’ve been so bored without my key item around…  _

Surprisingly, it was Futaba’s idea to attend Shujin. She’ll be starting as a second year and will be joining Akira on his daily commute. He let it slip to Kawakami that he hopes his younger sister will be in her homeroom, so hopefully she was able to pull a few strings. 

**Haru:** _ Do you mean Akira-kun? Is this a welcome home party?  _

According to Sojiro, Haru volunteered to work at Leblanc almost everyday after Akira left. She claimed that she wanted to get some “hands on experience” before attending university. She’s doubled up on her general studies so she has more time to think about what she wants to major in. 

**Makoto:** _ I have a late afternoon class on Saturday, and I’m sure everyone else will be tired after their own. I suggest Sunday, that way we will all be full of energy and have more time to spend together.  _

Makoto is the only one of them that truly has everything figured out. She’s dead set on becoming a police commissioner, and no one doubts that she will achieve exactly that. She found a cheap but nice apartment near her university and finished moving in only a couple of days ago. 

**Ryuji:** _ Gotta agree with Queen here. I got my first therapy session after school and shit.  _

At Akira’s request, Takemi made a list of good and affordable physical therapy centers in the area and passed it along to Ryuji and his mother. They finally settled on one, and by the end of the year Ryuji hopes that his leg will be in good enough shape to score him a track scholarship. 

**Sumire:** _ And I have practice! But I’m completely free on Sunday! I was already going to make plans to see Akira-senpai on that day, so this work outs perfectly! _

Considering everything, Sumire adjusted to life extremely well. She struggles sometimes, but now that she has truly accepted herself her gymnastics performances have drastically improved. So much so that she placed first at her most recent meet. She wants to live _for_ her sister now, not as her. 

Akira squints at the screen. There’s only one person that hasn’t replied. 

_ And you, Akechi? _

The response isn’t as immediate as everyone else’s has been. 

**Goro:** _ I don’t know. _

Akechi certainly had the hardest time adjusting. He announced on his social media that he would be taking a break from public appearances due to his deteriorating mental health, which is probably the most honest he has ever been since his rise to fame. Sae Niijima has visited his apartment a few times since then, confirming that he hasn’t dropped off of the face of the Earth, but not bringing any good news, either. She’s joked that he is going through his own change of heart, which might not be too far from the truth, but Akira can’t help but to worry. Akechi was off his rocker before, he must be astral projecting by now. 

After everything they have been through, Akira had hoped that he could finally call Akechi a friend. Maybe the others could call him that too, or at the very least they could come to an understanding and settle on neutral terms…

He lets his phone fall back onto the bed. He can’t force Akechi to associate with him if he doesn’t want to. He’s alive, and that’s enough.

Akira had prepared himself to lose Akechi again, but it didn’t make it hurt any less when he woke up alone in a grey and empty room- the juvenile hall. Maruki’s actualization fell apart so quickly that there was never even a chance to say goodbye. 

He spoke to the walls, prompting the staff to force him to undergo multiple psychiatric evaluations. Most nights, they kept him strapped down to a hard cot in fear of him hurting himself or others, he wasn’t sure of which- if not both. He was in constant isolation throughout his entire stay there. Not once did he ever come into contact with anyone besides passive-aggressive guards. Considering the circumstances, the employees should be proud that he left with some semblance of his sanity. 

It was a relief to hear that Akechi’s disappearance was due to the fact that he had checked himself into a therapy center, and not because… 

“Hey.” Morgana says, and Akira nearly jumps out of skin. “You’ve been staring at the ceiling for five minutes. Let’s get to bed.” 

Akira nods, unsure if Morgana could even see the gesture with only a few slivers of moonlight being cast into the room. 

He settles back down, and Morgana quickly curls up onto Akira’s stomach, falling asleep in seconds. Looks like he wasn’t kidding when he said he’s exhausted, not that he blames him. Not only has it been a long day, it’s been a long  _ year.  _

He’s looking forward to having normal dreams for once. 

* * *

The space, which can hardly be called a room due to the lack of walls and ceiling, is basked in a fleshy red light that serves as a casual reminder of the horrors he had faced in the depths of Mementos all those months ago. The air feels dense, and puts a sort of pressure on his chest that makes him feel as if he is being asphyxiated, and though there is no chill, he can see his breath.

There is no rebel attire and there is no prison garb. No twins, no false god. No attendant, and no master. 

“Trickster.” 

Scratch that. 

He takes a hesitant step forward, and the ground beneath his feet shudders before bursting with life. Bay laurels, forget-me-nots, rhododendrons, and oleanders sprout and bloom. In the distance, a Judas tree rises and stretches out as if it were captured in a time lapse. The plants scream danger. 

“Even you cannot escape the sins of man. You seek purchase on a cliff with no holds, destined to fall shall you continue further. Do you truly wish to begin the game anew? You are without aid.” The deep voice echos, not coming from any one particular location. The flower field ripples, throwing Akira off balance. 

“Yaldabaoth.” He says simply, and then sternly, “I’m done with your games.” 

“This is no game of mine, child. I am merely a whisper of what I was, a stray thought in the collective unconscious. Utterly forgotten, just as the fates had intended for Justice on that eve in the palace of Pride some time ago… Yet he lives. Indulge me, Trickster. Why was the one with the Black Mask saved from eternal punishment?”

“You say that as if he’s not supposed to be here. What did you do to him?” Something stirs inside of him, and he reaches out for Satanael or even Arsene, but no one answers his call. 

“The cognition among the masses alludes that a star shall grant any wish. You are in possession of one, its power lost upon the final bow of the Metaverse.”

Akira’s eyes widen. “What… What are you saying?”

“You who has escaped death, why do you ask such foolish questions? Your counterpart is alive on the condition of your own sacrifice. In the reality in which you have fought so hard to keep, there is no give without take. The time is nigh, and you have yet to pay your dues. The price of a life is hefty, are you prepared to accept the consequences?” 

Gunshots ring loudly in Akira’s head. The smell of iron. The salty taste of tears. 

“I’m assuming that this is no ordinary debt I’m in.” Akira states. 

“Indeed. Afterall, these are no ordinary circumstances. You possess a desire strong enough to reanimate the dead, however even you cannot break the fundamental laws of your universe. An eye for an eye. Will you let Goro Akechi perish once more, as his destiny foretold? Or will you restart?” 

Not again. He can’t lose him again, not when he finally got him back. 

“I will carve my own path for myself,” Akechi had said. 

_ You don’t have to die to do that.  _

_ I never want to feel that way again.  _

_ I won’t let you.  _

_ I’ll never- not ever- feel what it’s like to lose you. Even if I have to forget who I am and….  _ “Restart.”

“Very well,” Yaldabaoth chuckles. “So this is the path that you shall walk. I look forward to one last performance, Trickster.” 

And like a flick of a switch, he’s plunged into darkness. 

  
  
  



	2. Thyme

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akira's first day back at Shujin, dance team tryouts, and the return of a certain celebrity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there is no excuse as to why this chapter took me so long to write. i got busy. that's all. that's it. the next one won't take nearly as long- i promise.

Surprisingly, Akira woke up. Not surprisingly, he was hoping that he wouldn’t. 

“Yo, ‘Kira! Ready for school? Come on, get up!” Futaba is vigorously shaking him by his shoulders, causing his head to painfully jerk back and forth and threaten to topple off his body. 

The sun hasn’t even risen yet, but Futaba looks like she has been up for hours. Her hair is brushed out, and the bulky headphones that normally rest upon her head are gone. The Shujin uniform looks foreign on her, but he can’t say that it looks bad, mostly because she isn’t wearing the most identifying part of it. Most of their friend group, save for Akechi and Sumire, never wore their school uniforms properly. Futaba forewent the blazer all together, leaving her in the familiar white turtleneck undershirt, and replacing the black suspenders with neon green ones. 

Akira manages to pry her little gremlin hands off of him, holding both of her wrists together as he uses his free hand to rub tiredly at his eyes. He glances at his phone that had been knocked off of the bed in the struggle. He has another hour before his alarm goes off. 

“Sojiro made us breakfast! It’s gonna get cold if you don’t hurry up!” She stomps her foot, pouting. 

Knowing that this is a battle he will not win, he releases Futaba’s wrists and sits up, acutely aware of the complete state of disarray his hair is in. 

“My clothes…” He mumbles. 

“Already on it!” Futaba confirms, pushing a plastic covered bundle into his arms. “We picked it up from the dry cleaner’s last night while you were cleaning.” 

Akira lifts his shirt slightly, staring at Futaba intently. She lingers for a few moments, swaying and humming to herself, before taking the hint. 

“Right, sorry! You get nakey and I’ll escapey!” And with that, she’s gone as quickly as she arrived. 

Getting dressed goes off without a hitch, though his hair gives him a bit more trouble than it usually does. Morgana isn’t here, so he must have been tossing and turning all night from that strange dream he had. 

Half an hour has come and gone when he finally takes a seat next to Futaba at the bar. At his feet, Morgana munches away happily on some convenience store sushi and canned cat food. Sojiro sets a plate of freshly cooked curry and a steaming cup of coffee in front of him. 

“Futaba. What about the food getting cold?” He picks up his spoon. 

“I just said that to rush you.” She replies, mouth full of food. “Ditching the glasses this year?” 

He doesn’t wear glasses. The only time he has ever even put a pair on is when he accompanied Kasumi to that store in Kichijoji to find some new frames for her dad. 

He shrugs, writing it off as some reference he doesn’t understand. 

“You thought about joining any clubs? After all, you don’t have a record weighing you down.” Sojiro says, lighting up a cigarette. “I’ve seen the list. They have a dance club, you know.” 

Akira nods, taking a sip of coffee. “Tryouts are in the afternoon.”

“Oh? Don’t forget to give me your practice schedule, then.” Sojiro winks, and it gets a snort out of Akira.

“You’re gonna be dancing in starlight!” Futaba grins, her spoon clattering onto her now empty plate. “With Sumire, too!”

He can feel a deep ache behind his eye, hopefully it doesn’t turn into a migraine. 

“Right…” 

Akira finishes his food and downs three cups of coffee before he decides that he is as ready as he’ll ever be to face Shujin Academy utterly alone. 

It was upsetting, to say the least when he found out that none of his friends will be in his class. Ryuji, Ann, _and_ Mishima all share theirs. He’s the only one that got singled out; even Morgana won’t be with him, since he’s going with Futaba to provide comfort just in case she gets nervous. 

If he’s being honest, he’s apprehensive about going back. Sure, the rumors and the way he was avoided like the plague was pretty bad, but at least people left him alone. With a clean slate, he lost all of the intimidation he once possessed, and with that, he’s certain that no one will be scared to say- or show- exactly what they think of him. If he isn’t a bloodthirsty criminal, then he's just another weird quiet kid. A perfect target. 

“You two should get going so you can snag a seat on the train. You wouldn’t want to be late on your first day, right?” Sojiro reminds them, pretending that he didn’t just throw Akira under the bus with that sly and unnecessary comment. 

“You heard him, Mona! Get in the bag!” Futaba opens a black and neon green messenger bag she has slung over her shoulder. 

Morgana sighs and grumbles something about being stuffed into small spaces against his will, which couldn’t be farther from the truth, before jumping in. 

“Oof! No more sushi for you! You’re turning into fatty tuna!” 

“What?!” 

Akira watches them argue until the bell chimes and they’re out the door and out of earshot. He shakes his head before stepping forward to follow. 

“Wait up, kiddo.” Sojiro calls behind the counter. Akira catches the fridge closing shut, and Sojiro turns to face him with two bento boxes in his hand. “The red one is yours, give the other one to Futaba. I added a little extra for the cat.” He hands them to Akira gently, his lips curling up in a smug smile when Akira peeks inside to see a non-curry meal. A small piece of him breaks, and he suddenly feels the need to cry. 

“…Thank you. No one has ever- my parents never-” 

“Well, you’re my kid, and no kid of mine is going to go without food.” Sojiro says a bit gruffly, like he always does when the subject of Akira’s parents are brought up. 

_“I’m on my way, Akira. Hold on just a little bit longer. If they lay their hands on you again…”_

A thin rectangular object is on top of the bentos, and on closer inspection Akira realizes it’s a notebook, or, more accurately, a journal. 

“Oh. That. I know you aren’t on probation anymore, but you wrote in that diary of yours so much that I figured it would be nice if you had a new one. I know you turned down counseling, but…” Sojiro trails off before shrugging. “Anyway, go on and go. Don’t keep Futaba waiting.” 

And before Sojiro can see what is coming, Akira’s arms are wrapped around him, his face buried in his apron. 

“Thanks for everything, Sojiro.” 

“It’s no problem, Akira.” 

The train ride to school is incredibly boring, and Akira soon comes to realize that he was right in his guess that Futaba had been up for hours because she’s snoring on his shoulder within seconds. It’s hard to believe someone this excited for school was a shut-in less than a year ago. 

They won’t be at the next station for quite a while, and he doesn’t have any books to read, so he takes the opportunity to write in his new journal when Morgana suggests it. 

After careful consideration, he writes down everything he can remember about his dream since it has been the most interesting thing to happen to him since early February. He writes about his anxiety that is currently going through the roof, and when the train announcer announces that they will be arriving at Aoyama-Itchome in five minutes, he sprinkles in some stray thoughts he has been having about Akechi and… Someone. He can’t remember her name for the life of him. 

Akira is pleased to learn that Kawakami is Futaba’s homeroom teacher, so when they enter the school building she already knows what to do and where to go.

“Akechi eating that spicy takoyaki at the festival really left an impact. I know where the classroom is, and if you doubt me then don’t forget that I have Morgana equipped.” She claims, waving casually and hopscotching away. 

This is not how he expected this to go. 

Futaba was supposed to be a wreck, clinging to him as he takes her to officially meet Kawakami and show her the best hiding spots around the building if she ever needs to get away from it all. 

She just- She just left him. Left him to fend for himself. 

Oh, how the turns have tabled. He’s getting war flashbacks from when he supposedly ‘abandoned’ her at the electronics store in Akihabara. 

He more or less stalks his way through the halls, listening intently for anyone that mentions his name or rumors pertaining to him, but nothing comes up. No one even looks his way, and when he enters his new classroom there’s absolutely no hassle. It’s strangely off-putting to not be the center of attention anymore. 

Akira can’t seem to stop thinking about Akechi today, which is why the conversation between two dull-looking boys grabs his attention. 

“Do you think Akechi-san is okay? He’s taken breaks before, but it’s only ever been from television appearances. He hasn’t even been on any social media.” 

“My girlfriend’s brother’s friend said that she heard that he was in a therapy center. He probably cracked under the pressure.”

“Man, that sucks. I hope he comes back soon, it’s been so long. His life can't be that bad.” 

Akira never could understand why someone would want that kind of attention on them, but then again, Akechi never really wanted this celebrity life, either. It’s so nerve-wracking to know that all eyes are constantly on you, and that a single mistake can be your downfall. He’s been in the spotlight before, but at least no one knew his identity. Akira has yet to meet someone that doesn’t know who Goro Akechi is and at least two recent news stories regarding him. Akira can recall a time when he was on the front page of every gossip magazine when a picture of him eating a colorful cupcake was taken; each of the articles made comments about how the calories will affect his weight. 

While the public turned a blind eye to it, Akira didn’t. 

Akechi lost a lot of weight after that. He stopped indulging in the few desserts Leblanc offered, and he no longer requested extra sugar in his coffee. 

Class is far from interesting, and it all passes by in a blur. He eats lunch with Futaba and Morgana and is a bit disappointed when Ann and Ryuji message him to give two different excuses as to why they can’t join them. Not that it bothers him too much, they already mentioned that they would be busy. Overall, it isn’t a particularly intriguing day, though he didn’t really expect it to be since he hasn’t even gotten to the main event. 

He’s jotting down a journal entry after the final bell when Futaba flicks him in the forehead, startling him enough to send a rogue line of ink across the page. “Sooo you gonna dance or what?”

“Dance?” Maybe he should start using a pencil. 

“Hello? Dance team tryouts in the gym? We talked about it this morning? Last night? The week before?”

“Oh… _Oh!”_ He frantically shoves everything into his bag, nearly tripping over himself when he rises from his seat. “Sorry, are you coming with me or going home? It might take a while, so…” 

“I’m gonna cheer you on!” 

“Hey!” Morgana meows, poking out of Futaba’s bag. “What about me?” 

“You’re a cat,” Futaba says. “What else are you going to do?” 

Morgana’s ears flatten. “Well-“ 

“I’m already late. Let’s hurry.” Akira interrupts, gesturing to the exit. 

“You should change into your PE uniform.” Morgana manages before being packed away once more. 

Akira shakes his head, taking out his phone to check the time. Auditions end at 17:00, he doesn’t need to rush as much as he originally thought. “Everyone just takes off their blazers, I’ll be fine.”

Overall, the day had been abnormally average. It wasn’t a good day nor was it a bad day, though he wouldn’t have complained if he at least had some sort of company. He’d even take Mishima, who hasn’t stopped geeking out about the Phantom Thieves even though they disbanded months ago at this point. He was more than disappointed when Ann announced in the group chat that she and Ryuji are in the same class. Maybe jealous, too. 

…Has he always been this jittery about being alone? 

“We can wait out here. Good luck!” Futaba slides down onto the floor by the gymnasium door. 

“What happened to cheering me on?” 

“Eh, you’ll be fine.” 

There isn’t much that he can say that, is there? He dumps his bag beside her and neatly folds his blazer to set in on top. “See ya.”

The gym isn’t nearly as crowded as he expected it to be, but then again he is running slightly behind schedule. A few students are already wearing the club uniform, and he recognizes a brown haired boy to be last year’s vice president. He must have taken over since the previous president graduated. 

The heavy gymnasium door slams shut behind him, and he winces when the club members whip around to glare at him. He suddenly feels extremely out of place. 

“Hey,” he waves at them shyly. “Are tryouts still open?”

They exchange bemused looks with one another before a stern-looking girl crosses her arms and shrugs. “Why?”

“Um… because I wanted to audition?” Akira says apprehensively, unsure if that was a trick question.

“You’re joking.” The president scoffs. “Why in the hell would we let a psychopath like you join our club? You’re always talking to yourself and skipping school, not to mention your criminal record.” 

When has he ever talked to himself..? Well, maybe he does, but not enough for it to be a cause of concern. Or to be labeled as a psychopath. That’s kind of a harsh way to word it… Funny how they are so quick to label him as a criminal but aren’t so quick to rescind that and apologize when they find out that it wasn’t even true in the first place.

He does talk to himself a lot, doesn’t he? 

A petite girl with blue stockings covers her mouth in surprise. “That’s him, Iida-san? The one that was arrested? That’s so scary!”

“My friend sat behind him in class last year. He said that he was always slacking off and talking to a cat in his desk!” Another boy exclaims as if Akira isn’t standing only a few feet away and in earshot. 

He keeps his fists firmly clenched in his pockets. There’s no point in trying to defend himself. They won’t believe him. No one ever does. Coming here was a mistake. How many more will he make before he finally makes the right choice? 

“Hey, dumbass. Are you deaf?” The president- Iida- is standing directly in front of him. He’s tall and definitely has a few inches on Akira, not that it’s too much of a feat. He isn’t the tallest person in the world by any means. 

“I’m sorry.” Akira apologizes. “Could you repeat that, please?”

And _oh,_ if Akira hadn’t fought a god last year then the look on Iida’s face would have been more than enough to send him running. It’s downright menacing, and Akira immediately regrets his poor choice of words. He tenses up, expecting to be punched when he sees swift movement from the corner of his eye, and isn’t sure if he should be relieved or not when instead Iida shoves him roughly into the wood-paneled wall. 

“You’re nothing, Kurusu. Someone like you has no place on _my_ team, and certainly no place at _my_ school. Shujin was top tier before you came along, so why don’t you do us all a favor and just disappear?” Iida seethes, grip on Akira’s shirt firm. 

Why is he so angry? Akira never did a single thing to him; he’s never bothered anyone at this school, and yet they all seem to have a personal vendetta against him. They won’t even give him a chance to prove that he’s better than what they believe him to be. It’s impossible to fight this when nothing and no one is on his side. 

He’s exhausted, and no matter how much he sleeps it stays with him.

“Sorry.” Akira bites out, shrugging Iida’s hands off of him and ducking away and back from whence he came. 

* * *

Futaba and Morgana don’t ask, which he’s grateful for. It’s entirely possible that they heard the whole ordeal and therefore had no reason to ask since they already knew, but based on the confusion on their faces when they saw him exit just as quickly as he had entered meant that this is likely something that will come up in a conversation later on. 

Hopefully, that conversation doesn’t happen tonight. Especially not in front of Sojiro. 

God, Sojiro. He’s going to be so disappointed. The one thing Sojiro wanted him to do is to socialize, and he couldn’t even do a task as simple as that… At least Futaba had a good first day. She hasn’t stopped chattering about it ever since they boarded the train- not that he minds- but Sojiro better be buckled down into a seat for this story, considering Futaba has almost smacked him in the face four times already with her broad hand gestures and jumping. 

“Oh yeah! Nothing beats a nice cup of coffee after work, right, ‘Kira?” Futaba says, elbowing him in the ribs at the sight of Leblanc. 

He nods, forgoing the fact that the first day of school means little to no work. “Coffee sounds nice.” 

Morgana squawks when Futaba grandly flings Leblanc’s door open. “Sojiro! I have retur-” She freezes, staring at something beyond Akira’s field of vision. 

“It’s been a while. Where have you been, Akechi?” Morgana questions, and that’s all Akira needs to hear before he is forcing his way into the shop. 

And there Goro Akechi is- in none of his Detective Prince glory. 

“Honey, I’m home.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thyme- activity, courage, and stength  
> primrose- early youth, young love, "I can't live without you"


	3. Scarlet Geranium

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akechi and Akira have a long overdue discussion that leaves them both with a headache.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> never expect this to have a normal update schedule. sorry, i don't know why i struggled to write this chapter. it's awful but i didn't want to rewrite it all again. probably did not help that i would go days without working on this and then unsuccessfully try to pick up where i left off.  
> \--  
> tags have been updated

“You look awful.” Akira says, cringing at his own words. “Sorry, but…” 

Akechi looks miserable, with his heavy eye bags and dark circles. His face is gaunt, and his skin has an ashen pallor. Goro Akechi in maroon joggers and a black hoodie that’s much too big for him would be a sight to behold if Akira hadn’t noticed how his clothes hung off of his thin frame- he’s never been this fragile before. He’s like a broken teacup that had been glued back together after shattering, ready to fall apart with the smallest amounts of pressure. 

“I am well aware of this.” Akechi sighs, practically collapsing onto Akira’s bed. He wraps himself up in the comforter, bringing his knees to his chest and curling up so his face is hidden. “Pathetic, I know. Go ahead and laugh. I know you want to.” 

“Akechi… If you were still unwell you should have stayed at the center. You can’t rush this.” Akira sits on the corner of the mattress, gingerly pulling the blanket away. 

“Stop it. I’m freezing.” Akechi shoots him a look.

“Akechi, please.” Akira begs, his eyes pleading. “Don’t you trust me?” 

Akechi stares at him for a long time, eyebrows drawn and lips pouty, before huffing in annoyance. “Rumors began to circulate about my whereabouts when I announced my break. Once I found out that my so-called fans had tracked me down and started harassing the patients and employees of the facility, I decided to take my leave. Simple as that.”

“So the doctors never deemed you stable. You’re still sick, and you have been this entire time. That’s why you’d never let Sae in when she’d check up on you.” 

“Your intellect never fails to amaze me. You really are interesting.” Akechi says mockingly, and then seriously, “I didn’t come here to talk about this.”

“Then why did you come? I’ve been-”

“You’ve been what, Kurusu?” Akechi says sharply. 

“-so scared.” Akira finishes, yanking Akechi up by his long sleeves. “I didn’t want you to throw it all away again. Your life, your future… our friendship…You’re wasting away. Look at yourself!”

“Don’t you think I know that?!” Akechi screams, shoving Akira away, though there’s hardly any strength behind it. “Dammit, Akira! Why can’t you get this through your thick head? I told you! I didn’t come here for this. I came here to tell you to move on!”

Akira didn’t speak for a long time, instead, he silently watched Akechi rock back and forth, chest heaving and shivering slightly. 

“Move on?” He repeats, puzzled. 

“Yes!” Akechi throws his arms in the air in exasperation. “Inviting me to your stupid parties, sending your- your- _confidants_ to check up on me at my own house! I am an _adult_ and I don’t need your help or welfare checks!”

A beat. 

“Idiot.”

“ _What.”_

“You’re an idiot. I check on you because I care about you. What else am I supposed to do if you don’t answer the phone?”

“Then leave me be! I hate you!”

“If you hate me then why did you bother telling me all of this? And in person, nonetheless. You’re just emotionally constipated and touch starved.” 

“You- You- I am _not_ constipated!” Akechi screeches, face hot and flushed a vibrant red. He grabs Akira by the collar and yanks him forward. “You are insufferable!” 

“I know.” Akira smirks. “Coffee? Maybe some food, too. You’re skin and bones.” 

The hands tightly clenching the fabric of his blazer lessen their grip, before sliding down his chest and falling away. “Fine.” Akechi glowers. “Make me a cup of coffee so I can leave.”

Akira stands up, offering a hand. Akechi slaps it away.

“I’m taking your blanket.” 

* * *

It is much warmer downstairs, but Akechi keeps his body thoroughly swaddled up. The comforter slides down his arms each time he scoops up a bite of curry or takes a sip from his cup so he’s constantly fidgeting with it. His hair drapes over his eyes, but he turned down a hair tie when offered. 

“Feel better?” Akira asks, taking Akechi’s dishes away. 

“I do find myself feeling more relaxed. To be frank, I have missed the atmosphere here. Tell me, where have the Sakuras gone?” There’s a gentle smile on his face, something that Akira can rarely be graced with. 

“Sojiro probably closed early since it was Futaba’s first day at school, plus you showed up.” 

“Yes, I suppose you’re correct.” 

The pause is far longer than it should be.

Truthfully, they don’t have much to say to one another. Things have been as normal as they can possibly be, considering. Maybe after everything they have been through there should be more content to spark a conversation about, but Akira draws a blank. Akechi possesses a softness that hasn’t been seen by anyone since November, and he doesn’t particularly want to cause it to fade so soon. Delving into the past never goes well, especially with someone like Akechi who has fought so hard to leave it all behind.

It’s strange how little Akira actually knows about him. Akechi keeps to himself, giving enough information away to sate some curiosity, but not quite enough for full satisfaction. The nature of their relationship should mean that there couldn’t possibly be any more secrets to keep from the other, but it couldn’t be farther from the truth. 

The truth. 

What even is that anymore? They’re liars. Akira couldn’t recall the truth even if he tried. 

Pinch. 

“Why did you return to Tokyo? Indulge me. You know so much about me, it’s only fair that I learn about you.” Akechi slouches in his chair, his eyes falling shut, but Akira knows he is listening intently. 

“I missed everyone.”

“Is that so? And what of your parents?”

Akira freezes, dread forming a pit in his stomach. 

_Lie. Lie. Lie. Lie. Lie. Lie. Lie. Lie. Lie. Lie. Lie. Lie._

Akira shrugs, brushing off the unwelcome feeling. “I was kicked out.”

“Why?” Akechi pries. 

_Struggling to breathe as the fist closes tighter and tighter around his throat, threatening to snap it in half. Knuckles white as he uses all of his remaining strength to make one last attempt to break free of the hold. Vision blurry and fading as his legs give out until the only thing holding him up is his own father, still bearing down on his neck as he goes limp._

“A disagreement.” 

Akechi purses his lips as if he wants to say more, but maybe Akira’s body language tells him everything he needs to know because he doesn’t ask. 

“My apologies. I wasn’t aware of your sensitivity towards the subject.”

“Akechi.” Akira leans over the counter, tugging on the other boy’s clothes. “Do you miss your mother?”

“What kind of question is that?” He says quickly, though there is no anger in his voice. “Of course I do. I miss her every day.” 

“I want to know if the pain ever goes away. My parents aren’t- they aren’t-”

“Dead?” Akechi finishes for him. “There is no need to dance around it. I know what you are meaning to say. They aren’t dead, but they aren’t here, either.”

Akira nods sheepishly, and Akechi sits up in his chair; back straight with a stern look on his face. 

“Masayoshi Shido is my father, but he’s dead to me. Blood is a forced bond, it’s nothing compared to the so-called water that comes from a chosen family.”

“Did you just say something nice to me?”

“Unfortunately, your merry band of idiots is the closest thing to family I have. Do not misunderstand, it greatly pains me to say that.”

A wide grin spreads across Akira’s face. “Akechi. You love me?”

“I didn’t say that! Don’t put words in my mouth! My point is that you shouldn’t give a damn about your parents when you already have a family here! So stop stewing over it!” Akechi slams his hand on the counter, face as pink as earlier. “I wanted to cut ties with you, but you managed to pull me in yet again. How do you do it?”

“Max charm and knowledge.”

“Excuse me?”

“Refill?”

“No,” Akechi shook his head as Akira topped him off. “I really must be going. It’s late enough already.” 

“What are you going to do at home?”

“If you absolutely must know, I plan on resting.”

“You literally fell asleep while you were here. Sae says that you’re dead to the world pretty much every time she visits you.”

“Funny. The last time I got any rest actually _was_ when I was dead to the world.”

“Haha yeah. Funny. That’s not funny.”

“Ah, but you’re laughing.”

“I laugh when I’m nervous, honey.”

Akechi hums and shrugs the blanket off, folding it over his lap. “You? Nervous?” There is the slightest hint of a smile that graces his lips. It’s not fake, and it’s not callous. It’s not much, but it’s sweet. Genuine. He downs his entire cup of coffee in less than a second, sliding it toward Akira. “I had a dream about you last night.”

“A dream? That's random.”

“A nightmare might be more fitting. I was in a field of flowers, but it was as if I were in an ocean abyss instead. I felt sluggish, but I saw you in the distance speaking with someone. You were visibly upset. I called your name, tried to run, but I couldn’t seem to get to you.”

“Oh.”

“You disappeared. Right in front of me. I couldn’t even touch you before you fell apart. It was like breaking an hourglass.” Akechi suddenly grew very solemn. “I realized how unfair I’ve been to you. I know you care about me, even though I proved to you time and time again that it’s foolish of you to do so. Watching you disappear like that was… difficult. Not being able to help was even worse, and yet I put you in the same situation when we were in that distorted reality. I know my apology means nothing to you, but it’s better than leaving things as is.”

“You’re wrong,” Akira states. “It means the world to me. It’s been a while since you’ve had a friend, hasn’t it?” And if his eyes are a little red and glassy, then it goes without mention. 

“I think I’m ready for a fresh start.” It’s hopeful. Akechi puts out his hand. “So… friends?”

Akira laughs, sniffling and digging through his pockets. With the item he was searching for, he threads their fingers together and holds up their joined hands. “I’ll consider our duel a draw.” 

“Ah, my glove. I was wondering when you would return this. I have felt awfully bare without it. I am surprised you don’t feel the same.”

“Why would I?”

“It’s odd seeing you without a mask, by which I mean your glasses.” Akechi tucks the glove away in his sweatshirt, but when Akira reaches out he takes his hand once more. They rest comfortably clasped together on the countertop. 

“Futaba mentioned that, too. I don’t wear glasses.”

“Really? That’s news to me. However, I do recall you taking them off when you were about to depart from the train platform.”

Train platform. 

Did he see Akechi there? Thinking back on it, he didn’t see anyone the day he left. Did he? What happened? Did he even go home?

His head hurts. Sharp pangs. A dream. Akechi had a dream. A nightmare. Did Akira have a nightmare? Why can’t he remember?

* * *

  
  


_Akira was hit with the heavy stench of alcohol as soon as he walked in the door. There in the living room, his father stood waiting, leaning heavily against a wall._

_“Where have you been?” He slurred, and Akira knew he was in for a bad time._

_“I was catching up with Amagi-san. Sorry.” Akira replied quickly, kicking off his shoes._

_“You think I want to be up all night waiting for you?”_

_“You could have gone to bed.” Akira mumbled, walking toward his bedroom._

_“What did you say, smartass?” His father angrily yanked him backward by the collar of his shirt, slamming him against the wall. The man grabbed a handful of his hair and pulled- forcing Akra to look up at him. “Don’t walk away from me when I’m talking to you.”_

_But Akira was tired that night. Too tired to keep putting up with it all._

_“Get your hands off of me,” Akira demanded. “Now.”_

_For a brief moment, his father was silent. Shocked that Akira was actually capable of standing up for himself._

_It didn’t last long._

_When he woke up on the floor hours later in a dark and empty house, cold and gasping for air that still hasn’t returned to his lungs, he cried. He let out all of the tears that he had kept locked away over the course of the year. His arrest. His parents’ divorce. His first day in Tokyo. The interrogation room. Akechi. Everything was let out all at once._

_An accident or intentional, Akira wouldn’t know, but when he heard Sojiro’s concerned voice fill the room, it only made him bawl harder._

_“Dad,” he sobbed. “Dad, I want to go home. Please, take me home.”_

* * *

Akira shoots up with a gasp and, unaware of Akechi hovering over him, immediately slams his forehead into Akechi’s chin, sending them both flying back to the floor.

“What the _fuck,_ Akira?” Akechi cries, rubbing his jaw. “You just collapsed! What was that? What the hell was that?”

“Sorry.” Akira cringes, holding his own aching head. “Sorry, I don’t know what happened. I’ve had a headache all day and then…” 

“You should have told me you were ill! Ugh, I can’t believe you sometimes…” Akechi trails off, observing Akira’s guilty expression. He takes a deep breath. “I apologize for being moody today. I’m trying to work on my attitude.” He says softly. “Come on, let me help you to bed. If you still want to have that party tomorrow then you should try to sleep all of this off.”

“I wanted you to stay longer.”

“The party. I’ll be there.”

“For real?”

Akechi rolls his eyes. “For real. Now, let’s go.”

Akira knows that this is his wish granted. A new beginning. A chance to restart. 

For the third time that night, their fingers lace together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> scarlet geranium- melancholy. consolation, comfort.


End file.
